


The Makings of You

by Felgia_Starr



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Don't ask me how or why, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, I cried while writing this, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felgia_Starr/pseuds/Felgia_Starr
Summary: The sunset paints a breathtaking blood orange across the early evening skies after their wedding ceremonies, and the moment Katara steps into their new bedchamber and gets submerged in the orange hues and tones of the blinding view from the windows—the color further emphasized by the dark tangerine drapes—a wave of tranquility washes over her, resonating over her entire body and even through the knot of nerves that built up in the pit of her stomach.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	The Makings of You

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: I only read through this once, and most likely, there are errors here and there. Forgive me.

The sunset paints a breathtaking blood orange across the early evening skies after their wedding ceremonies, and the moment Katara steps into their new bedchamber and gets submerged in the orange hues and tones of the blinding view from the windows—the color further emphasized by the dark tangerine drapes—a wave of tranquility washes over her, resonating over her entire body and even through the knot of nerves that built up in the pit of her stomach.    
  
Not before taking a hesitant short breath, she turns her gaze to Zuko behind her, and a smile automatically spreads across her lips. For a short second, he seems to make his dissatisfaction for the garish orange sunset known by scowling at the windows, but he soon notices her smile and sends back a soft grin in return. Her heart palpitates at the sight of his twinkling amber eyes, and she can’t help but squeeze his hand—as an expression of her excitement or apprehension, she doesn’t know; all she knows is feeling him squeeze back makes her feel a lot better than she can ever openly admit.   
  
To ease her hidden doubts, she lets her eyes wander over Zuko’s form. She doesn’t really know why, but simply staring at him whenever she feels as though she’s about to drown in all of her nervous emotions truly soothes her soul and reinvigorates her spirits. She doesn’t really know what it is specifically about him that makes her forget about her troubles, but she’s almost guaranteed that it has something to do with the pure, unadulterated love she knows he feels for her.   
  
Once she is at peace with herself, she takes time in appreciating Zuko’s arresting appearance before her. He truly looks damningly irresistible. Oftentimes, whenever he’d look at her sternly with those intense gold-plated eyes of his, her knees tremble and her breath gets knocked out from her lungs. Or sometimes, his hands touch her bare skin in a certain way that sends pleasurable shivers down her spine. On embarrassingly frequent occasions such as this one, Katara just gets lost in his masculine yet undeniably-soft beauty. She does not want to sound insecure or to seem as though she has poor self-esteem, but she truly believes that Zuko is the most beautiful person she’s ever seen—from his redeemed heart to his more-apparent physical attributes.   
  
Tenderly, she cups his scarred cheek, her heart swelling at his immediate instinct to just lean towards her touch, towards what he once said he considers to be heaven. At first, his eyes shut, but he soon seems to realize something and opens them again, looking at her with a concerned frown.   
  
“Are you alright?” he asks, his hand moving to her chin and his fingers strumming a love song along her lips.   
  
She nods, smiling. “Yes, and you?”   
  
“I’m happy,” he responds, his face beaming brighter than the sun can ever hope to be. Both of his hands stroke the sides of her face now, and she somehow feels full already, just with his palms smoothing over her skin. “I’m so happy now that we’re finally married. Can you believe it? I’m your husband now, and you’re my wife, my Fire Lady, _ my forever. _ ”   
  
In Katara’s opinion, everything feels a little too good to be true at the moment. The wedding ceremony went smoothly with little-to-no imperfections. Everyone she talked to earlier told her it was a joyous occasion, the peaceful joining of two nations after a stretched-out war, and everyone looked happy for the two of them and congratulated them. Until now, Katara’s still waiting for the catch. She is still waiting for something to go wrong and finds herself growing anxious. Tui, it is her wedding night now; can’t her nerves just let her catch a break?   
  
However, the longer she stares into Zuko’s eyes, the more she feels herself drift away from her doubts, anxieties, and stress. To her, there is nothing more calming than gazing at Zuko’s face.   
  
“You’re my forever,” she counters, immersing herself in his honest, sunbeam-like eyes. Lost in his gaze, she searches for his very soul, the soul that is now connected to hers in every way, and finds his open heart that claims to beat for her instead. “I love you.”   
  
“I love you, too.” He rests his forehead against hers, and suddenly, the atmosphere turns more precious than it already is. She touches his broad shoulders with her hands and shuts her eyes. When he speaks again, she feels his breath fanning across her face, and at the moment, it seems to be more refreshing than a cool glass of water. “I love you so much that it hurts.”   
  
Their lips crash against each other like stormy ocean waves—harsh, hard, and yet so intimate in the strangest of ways. Truthfully, Katara has always liked Zuko’s kisses. His lips move roughly against hers, yes, but they also fulfill her lifetime longing for pure passion and unabashed lust in a lover. He never fails to kiss her like he truly means it with every bit of his stubborn heart, and he’s never afraid to explore both of their desires. She loves his kisses—almost as much as she loves him as a person.   
  
She lets out a soft, imperceptible moan when she feels his fingers undoing her complex Fire Nation updo. Once her curls are let loose, his hand toys with the strands, almost as if he’s entranced by the length and the thickness of her hair. He’s always told her how much he loves her hair, and he keeps proving it every time they kiss and make love. Zuko especially loves seeing her hair splayed across his luxurious pillows and bedsheets while he’s on top of her, gripping her thighs as he pounds away.   
  
All of a sudden, she feels the need to wonder; will he feel the same way inside her now that they’re married? Now that they’re bound to each other in the eyes of the law, spirits, and men? Will he still manage to fill her up to the brim in the most sinful way?   
  
As Zuko’s lips transfer to her neck, his tongue leaving a sensual trail along her throat, she realizes that she’s positively aching to find out the answers to her burning questions and that she cannot wait to be connected to him sensually now that they’re married.   
  
Sighing regretfully, she wrenches Zuko’s mouth away from her person and sets on stripping all the unnecessary fabric off of him. Before she can start though, she can’t help but place a sweet kiss upon his tempting lips and gets sidetracked when Zuko deepens the kiss, pulls her closer by an arm around her waist, and steals the air out of her lungs. Automatically, she wraps her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes to further lean into his mouth.   
  
His tongue plunges into her mouth, and a warm sensation pools deeply in her abdomen. She responds to this by gasping and playfully nipping at it before letting him in and begins a sparring dance of sorts using only their tongues.   
  
When they part for air minutes later, Katara finds herself in a lust-filled daze, and her hands are itching to spread across his bare skin now more than ever. She knows he feels the same way from the dilation of his eyes, the distinct firmness that still appears obvious through the thick layers of garments he wears, and the faint flushing of his unblemished cheek.    
  
Like her, he is still dressed in the traditional Fire Nation royal wedding garb. During the preparation period for their wedding, Zuko was adamant to go against his advisors and let her wear the Southern Water Tribe wedding dress she brought from home instead, but in the end, they both decided to compromise and perform two wedding ceremonies—one in favor of Fire Nation customs and another appealing to the Southern Water Tribe standards. Earlier during the wedding feast, he whispered in her ear and promised her that he will throw her ‘the best Agni-damned Water Tribe wedding in history’ as soon as they’re able to.    
  
Truth be told, she’s thoroughly elated at the prospect of having the best wedding in history, but she can also never find it within herself to audibly admit to him that she doesn’t need a celebration or a special event to bind herself to him, because she already feels as though they’ve merged into two halves of one soul and one heart a long time ago—when they were younger and had yet no knowledge of the strong connection between them.   
  
With a teasing smirk playing along her mouth, she decides to toy with her husband a bit, slowly undoing the many layers of her Fire Nation wedding dress as she takes languid steps away from Zuko and towards their bed, dropping the articles of clothing along the way.   
  
She only dares to look back at her husband when she’s only in her lower wrappings, her breasts bared for his feasting eyes as she sits demurely on the edge of the bed. Smiling prettily and batting her eyes for him, her hands flitter about her chest area, letting her fingertips linger on her stiff dusky nipples.   
  
“Fuck,” she hears him curse under his breath, his gaze turning predatory as a greedy snarl makes its way on his lips.    
  
“Do you see something you like, my lord?” she smugly asks. He lets out an animalistic growl and begins to stalk towards her, but she stops him with a disapproving hum and with a raised, open palm. The heated glare he sends her way after alights her core and makes her want to rub her thighs together, but he does follow her command, taking a pause and staring at her with an expectant look. “Take everything off first.”   
  
“You don’t want to do the honors?” He raises a brow, also smirking.    
  
She rolls her eyes and huffs, proceeding to let her hands wander around her chest. “No, thank you. I’m the Fire Lady now, don’t you know? I’m not expected to participate in such tedious affairs as stripping a thousand layers off of you. Besides,” she pauses, smiling naughtily and biting her lip for added effect, “I want you already completely bare for the taking when you get here.”   
  
Something akin to wildfire flashes in his eyes, visible even from across the room, and that one look seemingly ignites her core, spreading delectable heat across her skin. The needy whimper that escapes her throat is purely accidental, as well as the desperate rubbing of her thighs. With a seductive smile, he first slips his headpiece out of his topknot, setting it aside.    
  
He removes his cloak next, shrugging the fabric off his shoulders and never taking his eyes off of her. Then, he begins to saunter towards her, a hungry glint in his eyes as he continues to strip in an agonizing glacial pace. Her eyes are eager to see him nude and are unashamed of gawking at his newly-bared parts. She finds herself longing and aching to graze each and every complex line of his muscles, of his body structure with the tip of her fingers.    
  
Soon enough, her husband makes his way in front of her, left in nothing but his fundoshi.    
  
Gaze fixated on the stiff member peeking from underneath his underwear, Katara licks her lower lip in anticipation before raising her head to finally look him in the eye.   
  
Spirits, her husband is such a handsome man.    
  
Her hand automatically reaches up to press against the never-fading scar on his chest—the same scar she still blames herself for. Momentarily stricken and distracted, she shuts her eyes, sending off a wispy prayer up to the heavens. She prays for everlasting safety and good health to be brought upon him because, in Katara’s opinion, he deserves nothing less. She also hopes that when the time comes, she can return his sacrifice in a much more meaningful way than simply healing his wounds.   
  
Amidst her prayer, Zuko’s hand wrap around the one on his chest, causing her to blink her eyes open. With a single nod and an affectionate look, he comforts her. “It’s not your fault, you know.”   
  
She swallows, stares at the scar again, and looks back at his face, a lie curling around her tongue. “I know.”   
  
But it is her fault. No matter how many years have passed, no matter how alive he seems every day since Sozin’s Comet, and no matter how much he tries to ingrain in her head otherwise—she still cannot take the blame out of herself. She should’ve moved out of the way. She should’ve waited for him on Appa. She should’ve—   
  
He interrupts her thoughts with sudden yet consoling coos. Vaguely, it registers in her head that he takes a seat beside her and lifts her off the bed to place her on his lap, his perpetually-warm arms wrapping around her frame. She only notices her tears when they fall and stain Zuko’s shoulder and feels obligated to ask herself—how many times has she cried for this same exact reason?   
  
“I’m here,” he says to her, and it is always true. He is always here, alive and so full of fire. “I’m here, and I love you.”   
  
A smile breaks out of her face at his words, and she forces herself to regain composure and to keep the tears at bay once more. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply—the kind of kiss that refreshes her very soul—before pulling away once she feels whole again, only to move her lips down his throat and press a single kiss on his laryngeal prominence. “I love you, too.”   
  
The ends of his mouth quirk up in a teasing smirk, transitioning back to the light atmosphere earlier. “And just how much do you love me?”   
  
Unable to help herself, she demurely runs her tongue over the entire length of his throat before meeting his gaze again, grinning when she catches a glimpse of the barely-concealed lust in his eyes. “Only a little.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
Katara hums in assent, her grin widening. “Really.”   
  
He pretends to be deep in thought for a moment, his hands caressing her bare waist, his fingertips threatening to reach the sides of her breasts. His barely-there touches make her shiver in delight. La, she can’t believe she almost forgot that she’s naked from the waist up! “Well, what can I do to make you love me more?”    
  
“You can kiss me,” she suggests, immediately shutting her eyes when Zuko begins to lean in and does as he is told. The kiss he gives her is soft, short, and undoubtedly leaves her craving more.   
  
“Is that good enough?” he asks, his voice turning raspy.    
  
She shakes her head, hypnotized by his decadent lips. “No, I want more.”   
  
“More?” He kisses her again, deeper this time yet still deeply unfulfilling.   
  
“ _ More, _ ” she growls, growing impatient. She decides to take the matter into her own hands and grabs his face, pulling him in for a searing kiss—a kiss that tells him of her heightening need for his lips, his hands, and his big fucking co—   
  
She lets out a deprived whimper when his hips suddenly thrust up, his firm member briefly rubbing against her core. Out for revenge, Katara pulls at his lower lip with her teeth and grinds down on him, relishing in the pained hiss that escapes his throat. Never halting in her pursuit of devouring her husband’s mouth, she takes hold of Zuko’s hands on her waist and directs them to her breasts.    
  
Instantly, his fingers claw at her supple chest, greedily pinching her nipples. Moaning against his mouth, she rubs against his clothed erection once more, desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Zuko wrenches away from their kiss, only to place his mouth on the sweetest spot on her neck, sucking on her flesh while her hands perform their magic on her breasts. She cannot do anything else but hold onto his broad shoulders and throw her head back to enjoy every bit of the blissful tingles that shoot up her spine every time Zuko touches her.   
  
His mouth begins to move downwards—from her neck to her throat to her collarbones. He only runs his tongue over her clavicles twice before she feels him stand up and carelessly throws her into the bed. She huffs when she lands on the bed, quickly flipping over and crawling up to the pillows, unbothered by Zuko’s heated stare on her.   
  
“Take off your sarashi,” he commands as soon as she lies on her back again.    
  
She pretends to pout and clutches at her breasts, encircling her nipples with her fingers. “Am I not good enough for you like this, my lord?”   
  
He growls impatiently, goes on all fours on the bed, and crawls towards her. When he finds himself close enough, he grabs her by the ankles and pulls her down to align her body with his, putting his lips back where they belong—on top of hers. Her heated center pulsates as her nipples brush against his chest, and her hands move to the back of his head, to get lost in his black hair. When one of his large hands makes its way to her neck, his delicate fingers wrapping around her throat, Katara surrenders herself to him.   
  
His other hand moves down her body, searching for the knot on her sarashi before staying true to his impatient nature and settling for singeing her undergarments open with a single finger. Now, Katara admits she knows little about the history of firebending, but she’s quite certain that burning sarashi off a woman wasn’t one of the vital purposes that made firebending an art form.   
  
Pressing her palms firmly on Zuko’s chest, she pushes him off of her with a glare. He sends an inviting smirk when he lands oh-so-gracefully beside her, his right hand inching towards her thigh, but Katara ignores him and his sinful touches for now. “You promised me that you won’t ever set my underwear on fire after last time!”   
  
He shrugs apathetically, tossing aside her roasted sarashi and stroking her inner thigh with the tips of his fingers. “I lied, obviously.”   
  
“Why would you lie to me about that, of all things?” She tries to pay no heed to his naughty fingers, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult as his hand creeps up her thigh until his knuckles graze against the sopping lips of her sex.    
  
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he states, not looking very sorry at all. She has to bite on her lower lip to suppress the needy moan that threatens to slip out of her throat when Zuko’s fingers begin to unabashedly fondle her quim, his thumb lingering on her pearl. “I promise that it’s the last time  _ tonight. _ ”   
  
“You say that every time,” she points out, pouting. She soon becomes distracted enough when Zuko decides to focus on her love button; his fingers flick, press down, encircle, and pinch it in a manner that’s so infuriatingly gentle until her lips pop open and release what he once described as ‘music to his ears’. Her hand grips his wrist, trying to direct one or two of his fingers inside her, but he cruelly slaps her hands away. Resisting the urge to rip her hair out of her scalp in frustration, she chooses to buck against his teasing fingers instead, crying out every time her pearl is stimulated. “Please, Zuko.”   
  
“Please what?”   
  
Instead of properly articulating herself, a moan comes out of her lips when his middle finger runs along her dripping slit.   
  
“Use your words, darling.”   
  
“Please—” she cuts herself off with a long groan as his fingers continue to drive her to insanity. The desire in her belly heats up so much that it aches not to have any part of him insider her. “Fuck me please, Zuko.”   
  
She doesn’t need to see his smug smirk to know that it’s there. No matter. She’ll pay him back for this later—when he’s lying on his back, his hard member bruising her throat as she swallows the warm spurts of his seed. He will be the one begging and moaning then, his hands pulling at her hair while his hips thrust up, desperate to fuck her throat and—   
  
All traces of comprehensive thought fly out of her brain as soon as Zuko inserts one of his fingers inside her wet heat, a high-pitched sound tumbling out of her lips. Languidly, his finger moves in and out of her, occasionally pausing to lightly pinch her nub. He keeps doing that knee-wobbling combination until her thighs can’t stop shaking in utter pleasure, until her bones turn soft and weak, and until she’s out of breath from pleading more.   
  
“Please, Zuko,” she softly cries out, nearing tears. “Please, please, please. I want more, please.”   
  
He chuckles in a way that would be infuriating to her if she isn’t bent on reaching her drawn-out orgasm at the moment. “You’re so greedy, darling. Never settling and always wanting more.”   
  
She whimpers. “Yes, more. Zuko, please.”   
  
The kiss he places on her lips is soft, reassuring, and so full of his own desire for her. Then, another finger of his finally slides in her soaking entrance, and his pace picks up. She glances down just to entice herself even more and can’t help but moaning when she only sees a mere blurry motion as he continues to pleasure her. Helplessly, she throws her head back on the pillow, biting on her fist to somehow muffle the embarrassing sounds that escape her throat.   
  
The fiery lust in her abdomen grows even bigger now, spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes. Now, she feels like she’s a firebender herself—just from the unbelievably heated desire she feels from Zuko’s ministrations. A jolt makes her hips jump up towards his touch every time he stimulates her pearl, and soon enough, she cannot stop herself from continually grinding against his hand.   
  
Vaguely, she hears Zuko shift from beside her. Slightly curious, she opens her previously-shut eyes to peek at him and almost reaches climax instantly when she sees her husband’s oh-so-handsome face settling between her thighs, a delicious smirk on his face. “You look so gorgeous from down here, Katara.”   
  
She moans in response, thrusting her hips closer to his mouth and aching to have his lips all over her.   
  
“And you’re positively dripping,” he says, withdrawing his two fingers from inside her. As soon as his fingers abandon her quim, Katara lets out a whine but grunts when he flicks her stimulated button. “It’s time that we do what  _ I  _ want, don’t you think?”   
  
She desperately nods, but apparently that isn’t good enough of a reply for him, gently smacking her wet cunt with his palm in disapproval and causing her to release another breathy groan. “Yes, please! Do whatever it is you want, Zuko!”   
  
“Good,” he whispers, his lips brushing against her entrance in the most enticing manner. For a short moment, she silently preens herself on his words, a loopy smile breaking out of her mouth in satisfaction. Her celebration is cut abruptly short, however, when Zuko presses a simple yet earth-shattering kiss on her nub before completely diving in between her thighs, his tongue licking up her slit immediately.   
  
“Oh, La!” she screams out, her thighs locking around Zuko’s head and her hands pull at his hair strands in utter helplessness. He continues to lap up her juices, nuzzling her button with his nose a couple of times before delving inside her, prodding her hot walls with his tongue.    
  
As she’s said earlier, her husband is an impatient man who never settles in one place for too long, and that shows through his lovemaking and his… appetite. Once her gets bored with fucking her with his tongue, he focuses on her nub instead, taking the little button into his mouth and sucking on it mercilessly. When he gets tired of doing that, he plays with her wetness, or he puts his fingers back inside her again—sometimes, like tonight, he tortures her so deliciously and does every single thing she just mentioned at the same time.   
  
With a breathless moan, Katara finally reaches orgasmic bliss after his tongue swirls around her nub and his fingers hit a sensitive spot inside her. She comes, and it feels every bit magical like it always does with him; her back arching off the bed, her hands yanking at his hair, blissful tingles bursting through her entire body—and still, Zuko remains in between her thighs, slurping up her overflowing juices and peppering soft kisses on her quivering sex.   
  
Letting go of her harsh grip on Zuko’s hair, she puts an arm over her eyes—still seeing pops of bright colors and flashy visuals behind her closed lids—and attempts to catch her breath. A soft smile curves her lips when she feels Zuko kissing his way up her body, not before affectionately petting her quim. He leaves seductive, open-mouthed kisses from her navel up to the tips of her breasts, ensuring to pop each nipple of hers into his mouth and coaxing another needy sound from her before moving up again—sliding his tongue from the base of her throat to her chin.    
  
He takes hold of her arm that’s on top of her eyes and gently pushes it out of the way. Then finally, he captures her mouth with his, taking no time in slipping his tongue through her lips. She moans in response, eager to take whatever it is he’s giving her, and kisses him back. As their tongues sweep against each other, Katara absently gets a faint taste of her essence now and then from his mouth, but she doesn’t mind it. She even finds herself growing more aroused, especially after he starts grinding down on her, his clothed erection brushing against her still-throbbing center.   
  
Feeling her strength returning the longer her mouth moves against Zuko’s, her hands move down to his fundoshi and make quick work of undoing its complicated knots. Zuko only helps when the fabric comes undone entirely and the only thing he has to do is toss it away. Once he is fully naked, she slips her hand between their bodies, taking his pulsating member in her hand.   
  
He groans, breaking away from their kiss. “Shit.”   
  
Her eyes flutter open, a grin playing about her mouth as she squeezes his stiff length. “Do you like that?”   
  
He bites his lower lip, his eyes darkening. “You know I do.”   
  
“Yeah?” Her breath hitches. “What if I take you in my mouth? Would you like that, too?”   
  
Zuko looks blissfully pained at the mere thought of her swallowing him whole, but he shuts his eyes, seemingly resolved. “No.”   
  
“No?” She frowns in confusion, her grip around him loosening.    
  
“No,” he growls, holding her chin and pulling her in for another toe-curling kiss. “You’ll have to do that later.”   
  
“Why not now?”   
  
Zuko shakes his head. “I can’t now. I have to fuck you now.”   
  
She feels her sex throbbing in response to his words. “Is that so?”   
  
“Yes,” he hisses. As though his self-control is slowly fading by the second, his mouth latches on her neck, nipping at the skin of her throat and ensuring a red mark later.    
  
Katara’s lips closes in around the shell of his ear, whispering, “What are you waiting for, then?”   
  
He visibly shivers at the feel of her breath on his ear, but he acts quickly. Gazing into her eyes, his hand wraps around her own on his member, and together, they stroke his erection until he’s audibly gasping above her. Before doing what she wants and entering her already, he first dips in a finger to check if she’s still as ready as she was moments ago and chuckles smugly when he finds her soaking.   
  
Still, he rubs the tip of his length against her nub to prepare her even more, waiting until she trembles in unadulterated bliss once again before he even goes near her aching hole.    
  
“Come on, Zuko!” she whines, trying her hardest not to thrust up and make him slip inside her already. “I need you inside me.”   
  
“You do, don’t you?” He snickers, two of his fingers slipping inside her heat once more. Her eyes shut in pleasure, her jaw dropping open as his fingers drive home. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I enter your dripping cunt.”   
  
She opens her eyes at his words, a pleasant thrumming making itself known again in between her thighs. When his fingers withdraw, she gasps, feeling empty all of a sudden. He takes advantage of her open mouth and inserts the two fingers that he just used to fuck her with into her lips, forcing her to get another taste of her juices. Instead of being appalled, her lips automatically close around his fingers and suck her essence out of them, humming all the while.    
  
“Fuck,” he curses, his pupils blown as he regretfully takes his fingers out of her mouth. “You are such a seductress, darling. Let me make love to you, please.”   
  
She nods her consent, rubbing her thighs together in anticipation. Thankfully, he doesn’t wait any longer after that. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he kneads his erection for a few more seconds before gripping her hip and sinking into her wet heat— _ finally. _ _   
_ _   
_ They stare at each other, unblinking, until he fully buries himself inside her, and she feels privileged to have the honor to see every emotion that passes through his golden gaze—eagerness, anticipation, desire, and love. All for her and her only. Tui, she’s such a lucky woman to be with him like this, to have him inside her like this, and to be loved by him like this.    
  
They begin moving at the same time, their hips meeting each other thrust-for-thrust. Their pace starts off slow and tender—it’s as if the little space between them is in slow-motion, and they are supposed to take their sweet time with each other—but of course, desperation soon replaces their adoration, and it doesn’t take long before the slow rhythm picks up and turns into the rough and raw fucking he promised to give her back at their dinner table.    
  
She cries out and makes the most ridiculous sounds in the throes of passion, but she never takes her eyes off of her husband’s face, her husband’s ever-changing expressions. While the feel of his length stretching her walls is great, she feels as though there is nothing more pleasurable than simply watching Zuko come undone before her, seeing him turn almost feral and unhinged, and hearing incomprehensible mutters about how much he enjoys fucking her like this. He might just be the most expressive person she’s ever known, and she loves how rugged and raw he becomes whenever he’s at this same moment—while he’s pulling her hips harder against his, watching his rigid member disappear into her sopping folds, and letting out animalistic sounds every time she claws at his shoulders too harshly.   
  
Fuck, she loves it when he gets like this—especially now that their senses seem to be heightened after today’s events. Now that they’re married, everything feels different yet so familiar. The sheer feeling of him repeatedly slamming inside her body seems much more spiritual now, more refreshing, and more life-changing. Every time the tip of his length poke at her most sensitive spot, she feels renewed and baptized and reborn. Every time her hips crash into his and create burning bruises, she reaches the very blue skies she used to ride on, her mind slipping into a paradisaic version of nothingness, a utopia made out of the pleasure Zuko never fails to give her.   
  
_ Fuck. _   
  
Katara comes again when their rhythm turns erratic, when Zuko bites down on her shoulder, and when, in desperation, his fingers pinch her nub. Her nails dig into her husband’s skin as her walls clenches around his still-moving length. She feels more of her apparent arousal gush out of her slit, coating Zuko’s member and causing him to stiffen unexpectedly above her as he reaches a mind-blowing orgasm of his own. He tries to slip out the last minute, but she doesn’t let him, tightening her legs around his waist to ensure his come remains inside her, to ensure that he belongs to her and her only.   
  
Zuko shudders, riding the rest of his climax. She jolts whenever he accidentally stimulates her button, too exhausted to go through another pleasurable experience. After regaining composure, he slides out of her and positions himself beside her, taking her trembling-frame into his arms and giving her one last scorching kiss.    
  
Afterwards, they simply smile at each other, relishing in the soft yet giddy atmosphere only post-orgasmic bliss can cause.    
  
“I love you,” he quietly declares, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. “I’m so happy that you married me.”   
  
She laughs, a raspy yet sincere sound. “I’m glad that you married me, too. It would be such a humiliation if I showed up in the temple and you were nowhere to be found.”   
  
“I’m serious,” he grumbles, and taking in his bright amber eyes and never-fading smile, Katara realizes that he is, in fact, telling the truth. “I love you so much more than I ever thought possible, and I just… I feel so unbelievably happy when I’m around you. It truly does feel like I’m meant for you and you’re meant for me, like we’re each other’s soulmates or something—and I’m so happy you agreed to marry me because I know I hold so much baggage, and I know you don’t deserve all that you have to go through just to be with me. I just… I feel so lucky sometimes, you know? So lucky that you’re actually here with me. So lucky that you’re  _ happy  _ with me.”   
  
Her eyes well up, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. The moment is so precious that she just feels the need to go back where she thinks it all started, placing her hand on his scarred cheek in the most familiar of ways and watching as he leans into her touch, as though safe and secured. “Did you think you were the only one who felt that way? Did you think that you’re the only one who feel so lucky? Because you’re not! Sometimes, I don’t even feel like I deserve someone who loves me as much as you do.”   
  
His eyes shoot open at her words. “That’s not true!”   
  
“I know,” she reassures him, caressing his face. “I know that now, but I’m still lucky to have you, and I love you so, so much.”   
  
Zuko smiles and kisses her again, only further proving her point and showing her that she’s truly lucky to even have met  _ him _ —her sun, her fire, her counterpart in everything, and most importantly, her true love.   
  
Before she lets slumber take over her that night, Katara prays for a long life full of love with Zuko by her side. This time though, she won’t let that prayer vanish into thin air and be forgotten. This time, she’ll make sure that she’ll see her prayer come to life, promising to never give up until her wish has been completely fulfilled.

**Author's Note:**

> And here comes the end to my Zutara Week 2020 journey lol. If you somehow enjoyed this and look forward to more of my writing, don't worry! I am obsessed with Zutara, and I plan on writing more stories for this pairing! You haven't seen the last of me yet.
> 
> Paalam! ;)


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